


Untitled

by vaguesalvation



Category: the GazettE
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-10-16
Updated: 2011-10-16
Packaged: 2017-10-24 16:48:36
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 777
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/265712
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/vaguesalvation/pseuds/vaguesalvation
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Just come home.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Untitled

I unlocked the door in hopes that it wouldn’t be to an empty apartment. The door swung open and I kicked off my shoes, rushing into the living room where I had imagined him to be, sitting on the couch shuffling though music or messing with his computer.

No one was there.

I leaned my bag against the side of the sofa and allowed my jacket to slip off my shoulders as I headed to the bedroom. Maybe he had decided to take a nap, it was sort of late. I flipped on the light to find our bed exactly as it had been when I’d left this morning. Sighing, I leaned against the doorframe.

No one was there.

It wasn't as if we’d made plans for anything, I hadn't even called before I left the studio to say that I was going to be later than usual. It just had been a really tough day and I was looking forward to the comforting smell of his cologne mixed with whatever he had been drinking. It didn't matter if it was beer or tea, coffee or soda. It was always something I missed the most while I was gone.

I flipped the light off and walked to the kitchen. I opened the refrigerator to find that we needed to go shopping. I grabbed a beer and went back to the living room. I tried to focus on my work, knowing that if I didn't do some of it tonight I would regret it in the morning.

I never thought that when I took on this job that it would take so much out of me. If I wasn't in the studio to record, I was going though paperwork, or talking to interviewers or doing photo shoots. And while I enjoyed the visual part of his genre, I was beginning to feel too old for all of it. A photo shoot not only meant posing for two to three hours, but also changing into the various costumes, hair and makeup. It was starting to feel a little bit tedious.

I could think of a few ways I’d rather spend my time now.

I could only focus for a half an hour before the words on the paper I was looking at all started to swirl together. Even though I had drunk two beers, my heart was racing and I couldn't shake the feeling of anxiety. I tried to pretend that I didn't know what was causing it. Only because I knew exactly what it was.

Why wasn't he home?

It had already been an hour. It was already strange to come back to an empty apartment so late at night, but for an hour to have passed and still nothing from him?

I felt ridiculous, like a worrying mother afraid for her child’s safety. I closed my eyes, trying to push the images of accidents out of my mind. There was no reason to worry.

He would come home.

Another hour passed, and then another. I could feel my eyes starting to get heavy, but I couldn't will myself to go to the bedroom. I didn't know what time it was when I dozed off on the couch. Maybe one? Or was it two?

All I remember is being jarred awake by the sound of a revving engine from underneath me. I looked up at the clock to find that it was past three o'clock already. My heart started to race again as the sound was cut off, followed by footsteps that led up the stairs toward the door, a key sliding in the lock.

I got off the sofa slowly, not wanting to appear any more nervous than I’m sure I already did. I waited for him to slip out of his shoes before wrapping my arms around his waist.

I could tell, for a moment, that it had startled him. But as quickly as the hard muscles underneath him tensed, they relaxed again. His cologne was mixed with a faint trace of Calpis.

"Hey, why are you still awake?" He put his helmet down on the floor beside us and embraced me fully.

"You weren't here, so I waited for you to get back."

"Are you okay?" he looked at me with concern. "I just went out for a ride, then Kouyou called me for some darts. I figured you’d be in bed, working late and everything, so that's why I didn't call."

For a moment I didn't answer. I just stood in the hallway with my chin resting on his shoulder.

"Yutaka?"

I sighed and smiled up at him. "I'm just glad you're home, Akira."


End file.
